


Monster

by writing_addiction



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2016-09-14
Packaged: 2018-08-15 00:21:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8034721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writing_addiction/pseuds/writing_addiction
Summary: Cloud happens upon a disturbing (?) photograph while going through old Shinra Company documents with Reeve.  This is what he gets for helping out a friend, huh?  Post-DoC.





	Monster

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Crimbly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crimbly/gifts).



> This is a gift for crimson-sun/risingofflights, in response to one of their most recent additions to their Shinra Photo book project (http://risingoflights.tumblr.com/post/149780146761/carrying-on-with-the-shinra-photo-book-project). Crim says, "I'd love to see what people's rp muses have to say!" and boy, did I respond to that call. 
> 
> This was written in about an hour and is unedited. It's probable terrible.

It was a little unbelievable. 

Not that he doubted the authenticity of the photograph—because he felt like it was probably one of those “the truth is stranger than fiction” moments in life—but it was hard to reconcile his memories with the evidence in front of him. He had only ever known the man in the photograph as an egomaniacal son of a bitch, dangerously powerful and with little to no oversight or accountability for his actions. And then later on, of course, as some goddess-damned shapeshifting monster that bore almost no resemblance to his former self.

Certainly none to the subject of the picture he held in his hand. And there was, of course, no mistaking the tiny bundle in the center either. The photo was grainy, its age obvious from the quality alone, without seeing the date written in at the bottom. The math was simple, but even still, Cloud had a hard time facing facts.

“Is something wrong, Cloud?” Reeve asked, his voice filled with worry. 

Cloud wasn’t sure if he actually replied or not, as he couldn’t take his eyes or his thoughts away from the photo. It made him uncomfortable. But at the same time…?

“If you need to take a break, Cloud, just let me know.” Reeve’s voice again. Cloud was almost sure that he nodded. He was fine. Really, he was.

“You okay, man?” someone else said, he wasn’t entirely sure who. There were several of them there, sorting through boxes of paper and letters and various other official Shinra Company documents that had been miraculously unearthed from the DeepGround complex, Shinra Manor, and various other work sites over the past few months. Rufus was on a mission to find as many disparate elements of his father’s business as possible and make all the information available to the public. There as still an open, widespread public distrust of anything that bore Rufus’s name—Shiva’s tits, he remembered the outrage that had resulted when people learned who exactly was funding the WRO—but if he and what was left of his company was going to make up for their mistakes, he would need an olive branch of some kind. This level of transparency was risky, as it had the potential to spark a hell of a lot more controversy and rage, but once the dust settled, maybe some shit could actually get done.

Cloud wasn’t sure if it would work or not, but anything was worth a shot at this point.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, heard a third voice speak to him without really understanding. Was that Tifa? She’d been worried about him volunteering for this, that something he saw might bring back too many painful memories. And it had, to some extent. Early on, he’d been given a box that contained copies of cookie-cutter notification letters sent the families of SOLDIERs who had died in battle, mostly in Wutai, and although he’d been slightly unnerved, it hadn’t really bothered him until he started coming across names that he knew. People he remembered leaving Nibelheim one day and never coming back. He’d been a tiny child then, not really understanding what war was or why the adults cried so much when people left. He’d respectfully given that box back to Reeve and had quietly excused himself so he could get some fresh air.

He shook himself, blinking for what seemed like the first time in ages, and looked up at the half-dozen faces looking at him expectantly. Taking a deep breath, he reassured them all he was fine.

“You don’t have to stay any longer,” Reeve offered. “You’ve done more than your fair share.”

“I’m fine,” he repeated, still holding the photo, still staring it, still pondering every piece of information, every implication, every inference, it had to offer. It was hard to imagine Sephiroth like this, tiny and fragile and powerless, completely dependent on his caregivers, when for the great majority of his life, Cloud had imagined that Sephiroth could have never been any of those things. Neither the SOLDIER he’d admired nor the god-like being he’d twice defeated. And it was even harder to imagine that Hojo was capable of being so gentle and caring. “It’s just…”

He shook himself again, dropping the photo into the box labeled “Science Dept.”, and hoped he never had to look at that photograph again.


End file.
